Chapter 2

He kissed and kissed. He didn't stop. When I thought he would stop, he didn't.

His lips were soft on mine, hot, urgent, and hungry.

Why would he kiss me in this manner? He seems to be enjoying it.

Ace cupped my cheek, his thumb caressing it gently as he intensified his kiss.

My legs turned to a piece of jelly, my trembling hands doing nothing but resting my hand on his hard rock chest in an attempt to pry him off.

Why is he doing this? Why is he kissing me like he wants me? Why did he say what he said earlier? What did he mean?

Finally, he breaks the kiss. He broke the kiss but his face was still dangerously close to mine. I try not to stare into his eyes and he takes my chin in his delicate fingers, shoves my face up, forcing me to look at him.

And when I did, I melted underneath that gaze. It was the brightest shade of blue I had ever seen. Menacing yet, intoxicating.

“Congrats on this new phase.”

He whispered to me, planted one last kiss on my lips, and stepped back.

I, on the other hand, remained frozen on that spot.

“I hereby announce Ace Reynolds and Brielle Wallace as husband and wife!”

Everyone got up and started clapping passionately as Ace led me down the aisle.

Congrats on this new phase

I stared down at the ring.

Congrats on this new phase.

This wasn't a replacement, this was a trap.

I had managed to slip out of the after-wedding party. Every corner had people gathered in twos and threes and wherever I appeared, they put on that doll smile and encouraged me on my marital journey.

It made me cringe that I swore, I felt the hair at the back of my neck stand.

As I turned the corner, searching desperately for the restroom, which was the best place to hide at this point, I bumped into Mom and her long-time friend, Sylvia.

Sylvia was a three-time divorcee. And even with her in her late 60s, she still planned to remarry. She had always pressured Isobel to get married. She also never knew when to stop spilling. How can now be the time I had to bump into her?

Fucking hell!

“Oh, honey. Your mother and I were looking for you.”

I managed a smile.

Please, can you just let me go?

“Your mother explained to me about the last-minute bride switch.”

Oh, thank goodness she knows. Now, can she pity me and let me be on my way?

“Actually, it's a good thing, don't you think?”

I cocked my head, casting a confused stare at her.

“It's really important you marry early, I mean. Look at me, I married at the age I thought was a perfect marriage age and here I'm moving onto husband number four.”

She laughed at her own old, stale joke.

She had mentioned that to me a million times that I no longer felt the need to react to it.

“Anyways, eighteen is a perfect marriage age. Being married while you attend college, I couldn't have wished for more.”

You, not me. I almost retorted but, I clasp my mouth shut in hope that she would release me sooner rather than later.

“It's also the perfect age to lose your virginity.”

I raised a brow.

“So, my dear, spread those legs for your husband tonight.”

I almost gagged in her face. Maybe I should have because what the hell?

“And when he is done being on top of you, flip him over, climb over him, and ride him like the newest ride you bought with a one-year salary!”

She squeals as if she is imagining the scenario and Mom clears her throat. Once again, I totally forgot she was there.

“When you are done with that, get on your fours and allow him to take you from behind. After—”

“I'm sorry, did the part where I was forced to stand in as the bride instead of my sister fly over your head?”

Sylvia gawked and my mother gasped.

I didn't mean to be rude but I just had to. What the heck?

Being alone with that monster wasn't a terrifying thought enough, she just had to introduce these new, horrifying ones.

He wouldn't want to sleep with me tonight, would he?

I swallowed hard.

“I need to run to the restroom. If you'd excuse me.”

And I slipped away.

The minute I saw an empty toilet stall, I bolted inside, settling on the toilet seat.

My shaky hand hovered over the dial keyboard on my phone before I quickly clicked on my sister’s number.

It did the same it had been doing since we discovered she was missing early this morning. It rang until its last ring.

I tried again, biting my lips and nervously tapping my feet on the floor.

And on the third ring of my fourth trial, she picked. I jerked up from the toilet seat.

“Oh my God! Isobel?!”

There was no response, only a single, harsh breathing and a weak; “Bri?”

“Isobel, yes! Isobel, it's me! Oh my God!”

The line suddenly disconnected and as I fiddled to get her number back on the dial, there was a knock on the toilet stall’s door.

“Someone is here!”

I informed the person but the person acted deaf to my response and continued knocking, persistently and stubbornly. Her persistent knocks turned to violent ones and my heart began to pound fast.

“Who is there?”

My voice is weak and shaky this time. The person suddenly kicked the toilet stall door open and my eyes widened when I saw Ace standing by the entrance, his hand trapped in his pocket.

He was smirking. Wickedly.

I shuddered and quickly hid the phone behind my after-wedding party dress. But, it was too late, his gaze traveled to the phone faster than I could hide it.

“Let me have that, please.”

That wasn't a request nor was it a plea.

It was a warning. I swear, I sensed the warning laced in his tone.

It sounded rather like “Let me have it before I have your head this minute.” or “Let me have it before I shove your head into the water closet and watch you drown.”

I took out the phone with trembling hands, extending it to him as I walked out of the stall.

He grabbed the phone, his knuckle rings brushing my skin slightly causing me to shiver even more.

His eyes wandered around the phone before it settled.

“You spoke to her?”

I nodded, knowing fully well he was referring to Isobel.

Somehow, I expected him to break into an eager smile and thank me for trying her phone one last time, making it easy for him to find her.

Because, if Isobel was so excited about her marriage to him, that should mean he loved her, right? That he wanted her too. Even though it was hard to believe so because, Isobel wouldn't be madly in love with someone that doesn't reciprocate it.

Instead, his gaze hardened and he took out a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket.

I watched his every move carefully as he shoved the handkerchief into the drainage of a basin and turned on the water.

My curious gaze continues regarding him carefully.

His dark gaze rested on mine as he suddenly dropped the phone into the basin, allowing it to sink into the water that had already filled the clogged basin.

I gasped.

What the hell?!

Why would he—?!

“Let's go back to the party, it's time to greet the guests.”

I don't say anything as I let him grab my hand and lead me out of the restroom.

I was struggling to fathom what had just happened.

Did he just get rid of the only way to find Isobel?

Why would he do that?

Tears sting at the corner of my eyes. Who the hell is this man?

When we returned to the party, I saw Mother approach me, smiling sweetly like the doll that she was.

“I’m glad you found her, Ace. I didn't know she would take that long in the restroom, I could have found her myself.”

She told Ace where I was? I should have guessed! Mom is slowly becoming the bane of my existence.

Ace didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge her with something as simple as a smile, and just continued pulling me along.

I looked back at Mom, hoping she would see the drop of tears at the corner of my eyes and sense something was wrong right away. But, what was I expecting?

Mother just kept her doll smile planted on her face, watching Ace drag me along.

Foolish woman.

“Just smile and don't make any suspicion.”

Ace whispered to me as we approached a group of elderly men.

He didn't need to tell me to do that. I was planning to do just that for the rest of the night.

One of the men, bald, tall, clean shaves, square-shaped face, walked up to us—or rather, Julian—extending his frail hand for a handshake. Ace takes it without hesitation.

“Non sapevo che saresti uscito dal mercato così presto.”

Didn't know you’d be off the market so soon.

“Faccio le mie regole.”

I make my own rules.

The man chuckled and gave a friendly pat on his shoulder, stepping away and allowing another man in his age group to step forward. Compared to the first man who extended his greetings, he was short and sturdy.

“Congratulazioni, Don Ace.”

I should believe that meant Congratulations in what sounded like Italian.

Ace gave him a nod. Does this man ever smile?

“Ma sicuramente conosci i tuoi gusti. Non ha diciotto anni o qualcosa del genere?”

But you definitely know your tastes. Isn't she eighteen or something?

The old man let his gaze run over my body and I suddenly became curious about what he was saying to Ace. Are they also talking about our wedding night like every other person in the fucking party?

“So che l'hai scelta per le cose strane. Fa un bel giro? Ho sentito che lo fanno le ragazze della sua età.”

I know you chose her for the freaky stuff. Does she give a good ride? I heard girls her age do.

“I’d prefer you keep your opinions about my woman to yourself else I won't hesitate to rip open your throat.”

My breath caught in my throat. I hadn't expected that response from Ace. No, I hadn't suspected in the least that they could be talking about something that personal.

Ace sounded too protective and defensive which frightened me even more. Why was he? Is that how he acted towards every woman he met? Something was off.

Another man walked up to us. Unlike the other men, he appeared clean and collected. He was also very charismatic.

Surprisingly, this man spoke English.

“It’s nice to meet you, Liebling.”

It took me seconds to realize he was referring to me. I instantly shot him a smile.

“Me too.”

I returned, looking around awkwardly. The way he gazed down at me was so creepy. It made the hair at the back of my neck stand. It was as if he knew something. As if he could pick out every little secret I possessed by merely staring at me.

Is this how they always are? Creepy and intimidating?

“How about the other one? Is it Isobel?”

My head snapped up at the mention of my sister’s name. Though, he was now turned to Ace, referring to him.

Does he know about Isobel?

“I thought she was the fianceè, wasn't it?”

Ace said nothing, staring right back at the man like he could twist his neck right there and watch him take his last breath.

“Dove l'hai tenuta?”

Ace’s expression suddenly hardened at the question and he walked up to the man, whispered something into his ear—probably a threat—and watched him stalk away.

Something was wrong. No, something had to be.

Ace met other guests, all the way from Russia, Mexico, Chicago, Miami, and France. And, he spoke all freaking languages like his mother’s tongue.

He spoke Spanish, French, Russian, and some other languages I couldn't quite place.

Either way, I snuck out of his sight when I noticed him engrossed in a French conversation.

Dove lai Tenuta

Dove lai Tenuta

I sang the words of that man like rhymes continually.

Ever since my encounter with that man and how Ace’s expression hardened when he asked that question with that language, I had kept singing the pronunciation of the words in my head for when I could finally find a secretive place and do my research on what that meant.

Immediately I found a corner, a guest-free zone and fished out the phone I stole from my mother’s bag when she wasn't looking and went straight in search of its meaning.

Dove Lai Tenuta

I typed slowly in the search bar. Then, it brought it out - the right spelling along with its meaning.

And the meaning said: “Where did you keep her?”

I remembered him saying that right after he asked about Isobel and I froze.

Did this devil—?